


Made for Me and You

by orphan_account



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13399788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wrathion's skill in diplomacy is a matter of debate, as likely to incite war as make peace. His skill in dance, however, is undeniable.





	Made for Me and You

This ball was going decidedly less than swimmingly. Anduin had hoped, through some apparently foolhardy notion, to open some conduits of communication between the Nightborne and the Alliance, or at the very least, between himself and their leaders. They were a race Anduin felt could be easily reasoned with, having no true ties to the Horde but a tenuous relationship with the blood elves and a disastrous one with Tyrande.

An absurd number of measures had been put in place to create a safe haven for their technical enemies in the heart of Stormwind Keep. He had pushed for every human he knew had been positively involved with the Suramar campaign to attend, hoping some friendships could be reforged. Thalyssra was invited to bring along as many of her people as she would like. A promise of open arms, no weapons, and free drink was one Anduin had learned few elves could turn down. And a good number had arrived indeed, including Thalyssra and her chief advisors.

The elves were mingling well enough, but the entire party was bogged down with an air of forced civility, as though everyone was simply going through the motions, already having decided the night was a pointless endeavor. Not to mention, forging any sort of rapport with Thalyssra was proving more difficult than with Garrosh himself.

Anduin fidgets with his champagne glass before taking another sip. “This is quite a lovely vintage.” He offers, his third inane platitude of the night.

The guest of honor frowns minutely and swirls her drink. “Do you think so?”

Anduin blinks. “I– yes. I prefer tartness, usually. There’s this delightful white wine from Northshire–“

Thalyssra interrupts him. “I don’t care much for wine talk. A bit vapid for my tastes.”

Anduin schools his expression. “My apologies, First Arcanist. Do you have a topic you prefer?”

He means it kindly, but Valtrois, at Thalyssra’s right hand, scoffs. “Perhaps she’d be willing to talk about wine of a higher quality.”

Thalyssra all but rolls her eyes. Anduin latches on to the topic readily. “Do you find this to be that much different from your people’s?”

Valtrois laughs again. “The Shal’dorei have been bottling wine since before your race was born. We’ve developed a bit more, let’s say, nuance.”

“I would love to try some, then. Or would it spoil me for my own fair, do you think?” Anduin makes an attempt at a joking tone.

“More likely you would spoil it.”

“Ah.” And Anduin finds himself awkwardly toying with his glass yet again. He was used to difficult negotiations, but this was another beast altogether. He glances around the room, desperate for a new topic of conversation.

He makes contact with a pair of glowing red eyes. He hardly realizes what he’s done before their owner grins and begins to make his way over, moving fluidly through the crowd.

Anduin panics.

Wrathion had been allowed to attend the diplomatic ball, on strict instructions he speak to no Nightborne about anything but the most inane topics, and that he leave Anduin to his business unless otherwise indicated. A desperate look in his direction would be taken by most people as a plea for help, rather than failing socialization.

Anduin tries throwing him another look, but can’t seem to get his face to convey the message of a false alarm. Anduin can think of no other way to get it across that wouldn’t make an even worse impression on his guests than he already has. He can only make a silent prayer.

“Hello, darling. Enjoying yourself?”

Wrathion is dressed in Stormwind blue, another stipulation of his invitation. The entire ball has been decorated mostly in shimmering hues of blue and violet, in what Anduin had felt was a subtle show of solidarity.

Wrathion wears the look well. Anduin suspects he would look good in a potato sack. It’s all in the attitude, really, that charming grin he flashes as he ruins all of Anduin’s plans.

“Well enough. And you?”

“Oh, I’ve found the party quite agreeable. Ladies?”

He addresses the Arcanists with such a level of casual confidence it’s hard to remember he has absolutely no business talking to them.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Thalyssra states flatly.

“Forgive my rudeness then. Wrathion.”

Valtrois cocks an eyebrow at the name but otherwise the two give no indication of interest in Wrathion’s simpering.

“At any rate, I was wondering if I might steal away our dear king?”

Anduin starts.

“Wrathion, I don’t–“

“Just for one song, love? The dance floor has been calling us all night.” Wrathion offers him one sharp, gloved hand with a flourish. Anduin glances at it, before looking back to the Nightborne.

“Our guests are welcome to join us. I can vouch for this band’s skill in dance numbers.” Wrathion interjects.

Thalyssra purses her lips. “We’ll pass. But please, feel free.”

Anduin sighs through his nose before taking Wrathion’s hand. He might as well get some fun out of the night.

Wrathion whisks him away to the dance floor, sparsely populated with guests currently following a waltz. Wrathion places his hand on Anduin’s waist and begins leading a light four step.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Anduin grumbles.

“Nonsense, you were bombing. And everyone enjoys watching a nice couple dance.”

“I wouldn’t say _everyone_. Single people hate couples. It makes them jealous.”

Wrathion laughs. “Then couples must hate us.” He makes a half turn abruptly, flaring the tails on both of their jackets.

“Wrathion.” Anduin warns. “It’s a waltz.”

He slows them back into step with the rest of the dancers. “So it is. What a pity.”

They move around the polished floor smoothly for a few measures. Wrathion is right, the waltz is painfully simple, but Anduin still enjoys the feel of it, swaying gently along with the music.

“The First Arcanist’s _charming_ attendant isn’t single, either way.” Wrathion drops the piece of gossip with a mischievous smile.

“And where might you have gleaned that information?”

Wrathion delicately spins Anduin around once before bringing them back together. “I spoke with a very entertaining Nightborne who claimed to know her rather well. Oculeth, I believe his name was.”

Anduin clenches his eyes closed for a moment while still managing to keep his rhythm. “And you spoke nothing else with one of Thalyssra’s chief advisors, _correct_?”

Wrathion cracks a little smirk. “I may have mentioned something about an impressive feat of teleportation magic being performed in the mage district. He was quite taken with the idea, rushed off immediately.”

“Wrathion! He can’t– if someone sees him–“

Anduin makes to pull out of Wrathion’s grasp, but finds himself held tight.

“Please, Anduin, I’m not a fool. My best guards are tailing him as we speak. Purely for security purposes, of course. He could be no safer sitting on the throne itself.”

Anduin allows himself to be led in another sweeping circle around the dance floor.

“You know I intended you not to use this night for your own gain. And to perhaps not try to manipulate every guest under our roof?”

Wrathion scoffs. “All for your gain, my dear king. Manipulation through kindness works just the same as blackmail. More effective sometimes, even, to make someone believe they’ve acted of their own choice.”

Anduin rolls his eyes, amused. “Good to hear you’ve nearly learned something from me, after all this time.”

“Oh, I’ve learned quite a number of things from you, Anduin Wrynn.” Wrathion leers. He encourages Anduin into a more complicated step as the beat picks up toward the piece finishing. Their legs twine around each other, effortless from many practiced attempts.

“You certainly couldn’t dance like this before your stay in Stormwind.” Anduin laughs, enjoying keeping up with him.

The music comes to the natural break that usually indicates a switching of partners, but Wrathion keeps a firm hold of Anduin by the small of his back.

“Could I tempt you into one more, love? Let’s give these dusty old elves a show.”

Wrathion’s eyes gleam brilliantly in the low light, purely filled with joy. Anduin finds that nothing in him wants to decline.

“Perhaps just one more.”

Wrathion’s smile spreads wide around sharp teeth. He waves down the bandleader before giving her a vigorous thumbs up gesture. Anduin swears she laughs at the two of them, before directing the band into an upbeat swing number.

Anduin know the song, certainly, and the dance that goes with it as well. If Wrathion had wanted to make a show of themselves, he couldn’t have picked something more ostentatious. Though really, he rarely picks anything but.

The dance floor nearly clears out in reaction to the new selection, a bit more ambitious than a casual party-goer would prefer.

Wrathion frees Anduin’s waist to take his hands in both of his own as the piece begins in earnest. The two of them step lightly back and forth toward each other, feeling out the bouncy music.

Anduin laughs at the picture they must make. “You know I’m the king, right?”

“I know the king likes to have fun!” Wrathion leads Anduin through a quick spin in time with a trumpet blast.

Anduin can hardly remember when the two of them had first started dancing together, or why Wrathion had been so entranced with the idea. Part of him thinks Wrathion just enjoys a socially acceptable method of bossing Anduin around. They go through another loping maneuver, Anduin guided under their outstretched arms with a flourish before Wrathion follows smoothly.

Another part suspects the whole thing is some secret draconic mating ritual that he’s fallen into. Either way, Anduin isn’t complaining, breathless with the exertion of executing each hop and step in time with the music.

Wrathion spins him in, close against his chest. “You’re beautiful, my dear.”

Anduin spins back out easily. “And you’re insufferable!”

They bop steps along to the beat again before the next cue hits and Wrathion lifts him, two hands around his waist, as if Anduin weighs nothing at all. This is why Wrathion generally gets to lead. Dragons turn out to be both deceptively strong and heavy for their size, and though Anduin is a bit taller, he’s nowhere near lifting Wrathion as easily as Wrathion lifts him. Plus, Anduin quite enjoys the feel of it, being carried so securely, twirled, and dropped back down to a dramatic brass kick.

Anduin can hear a crowd applaud the move but can’t quite find it in himself to care people are watching, too caught up in the music and his dashing partner. Wrathion brings them flush again before dipping him dramatically to the song’s final jazzy flourishes. “That must be why you love me.”

Anduin’s heart pounds hard from the workout, a rhythm that says ‘yes, it is’ so loudly he doesn’t bother saying it with words. Instead, he pulls Wrathion’s head down that little bit more and kisses him absolutely senseless.

By the time they manage to regain a standing position, Anduin has found some of his humility as well. Their relationship isn’t a secret, but it’s still not terribly regal to be necking in the middle of any sort of party.

As the floor floods with people eager to dance to the next tune after watching their performance, Wrathion winds the two of them through the crowd, hand in hand, to deposit Anduin back where he had started. He gives a disgustingly cheeky grin.

“My apologies, ladies. I couldn’t resist keeping him out past curfew. I hope you can forgive me.”

Anduin’s face burns at how amused the two of them look. “No apologies necessary. We enjoyed the show as much as anyone here.” Thalyssra jokes.

“You know, I had heard the rumors, but I thought them far too fantastical to be true. The king of Stormwind, shacking up with a dragon!” Valtrois chuckles behind one hand. “Well done, at any rate. He’s a passable dancer.”

“No more surprising than a lead Arcanist shacking up with a dragon, I would think?” Wrathion responds with a false casual air. Valtrois colors a deep purple.

“A pleasure to meet you two, again.” Wrathion gives them each a kiss to the backs of their hands. “I’ll be sure to send your friend back your way!”

“I’d rather leave him.” Valtrois grumbles.

Thalyssra smiles at Wrathion’s antics as he presses a final kiss to Anduin’s own hand before he disappears back into the crowd.

Anduin feels a bit shell-shocked. “What were we talking about, again?”

Thalyssra finally laughs in earnest. “I believe you were interested in Shal’dorei wines?”


End file.
